The ranch looked like an anthill on moving day. People ran in every direction, carrying tables, chairs, decorations, and more decorations. The smell of fresh food was already starting to spread from the kitchen, where Rosa commanded an army of pots with a wooden spoon in each hand. Colorful balloons floated tied to the trees, and rows of little flags fluttered in the wind, creating a festive atmosphere that took over every corner.
I was sitting on a bench near the barn, my huge, heavy belly resting on my lap, just watching the madness around me. The girls kicked nonstop, as if they too wanted to join the chaos. One day remained until the first Spring Festival at Snowfall Creek Ranch, and it seemed the entire world had decided to show up to help—or hinder, depending on your point of view.
